


Anthoine Hubert: Son, Friend, Racer

by TifosaAtHeart (F1_Fanatic)



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Tribute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:06:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/F1_Fanatic/pseuds/TifosaAtHeart
Summary: Anthoine was more than just the rising star of the future that was taken far too early. He was such a warm and kind person and yet such a fierce racer. Such a sweet young man and at the same time such a brave and resilient fighter.My personal tribute to Anthoine Hubert.





	Anthoine Hubert: Son, Friend, Racer

**Author's Note:**

> So, I've been tiptoeing around whether or not to post this for a while. I've decided that I want to. It's my way of dealing with what happened to Anthoine and I thought that maybe it can help someone deal with it as well.
> 
> I'm going to be honest and straightforward; I didn't really know much about Anthoine. I'd seen his name around but never bothered to learn anything about _him_. But his accident really shook me to the bone.
> 
> On days like Saturday I hate that I love this sport. Yes, we've made progress in safety but motorsports is dangerous and will always be. While we sit comfortably on our couch in front of the TV these guys are risking their lives going around in circles. Yes, they love what they do and they can't live without it but any minute they could end up at a wall. For us, for our own entertainment. So, please next time you tune in to watch F1 hope for a safe race above all things. Everything else is a bonus.
> 
> This is my tribute to Anthoine Hubert, a fantastic person and a phenomenal talent that was destined for great things. Adieu, Anthoine.
> 
> ❤ #AH19

All you feel at the Spa paddock on Sunday morning is numbness. Numbness and silence.

Hours ago, there had been so many emotions; joy and anger and disappointment all revolving in the air aimlessly and blending into one. Now, there's a grey cloud hovering over them, slowly taking them over, suffocating them. Anthoine is gone and racing seems so unimportant right now.

Some of them had been his friends and rivals. Some had shared racetracks and podiums with him. Some had exchanged words or smiles with him in the paddock and received the same in return. Some had only seen the news credits, “_Hubert crowned GP3 champion_”; “_Hubert wins the F2 Monaco sprint race_”; “_Hubert wins the F2 French sprint race_”. They did a good job to summarize a bright career and a bright life. That last bit in particular, his victory on home soil, _truly_ home soil with Lyon just a little under four hours from Paul Ricard, had been his pride and joy and oh how happy he looked in the pictures...

His blood still feels raw up at Raidillon when they assemble at the grid to pay tribute to him. A minute of silence is not enough of a homage and it's over way too soon, the national anthem now playing in the background, and they disperse in different directions to start the procedure of getting ready for the start of the race.

His mother watches them from the side with her jaw clenched tightly and her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. Yet, pain cuts through her calm façade and washes over each and every one of them. Yes, they all knew the dangers that came with climbing in the cockpit on Sunday afternoon, knew what was at stake and the lines that they willingly crossed sometimes. But it seems so unfair for life to go on and move forward when everything feels as if it's on pause, stationary and waiting for something to unfold.

But race drivers are a different breed of people. There's something about them, engraved in their hearts, that in moments like this forces them to keep standing tall, put their helmets on, close the visor, set their foot down on full throttle and drive. Fight. They can't just sit in a quiet corner and mope over an imaginary alternate reality and the what-ifs. They need to be out there, burning rubber on a racetrack, chasing some dream and a stupid black-and-white piece of cloth. It's exhausting and draining and in Anthoine's case fatal but they can't stop. It's their way of life and they love it more than anything and they're prepared to die for it.

The ferocious beast in front of them, the legendary Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps that promises glory as effortlessly as it does death, is stretching its legs and roaring its tamers away. It hopes for resignation without war. But retreating isn't really on anyone's mind at the moment. It has taken one of their own and now they're seeking revenge.

Because Anthoine was more than just the rising star of the future that was taken far too early. He was such a warm and kind person and yet such a fierce racer. Such a sweet young man and at the same time such a brave and resilient fighter.

Anthoine Hubert was an out-and-out racer, a hopeless dreamer that had the strength and the courage to chase his dream and he even reached it with his fingertips. Anthoine Hubert was a true champion and champions never die. They continue to live and smile forever in the hearts of those who they impressed and maybe convinced that it's worth to fight for their own dreams.

Anthoine Hubert, 1996-2019 - gone but never forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave kudos or comments and share your thoughts and feelings. We are united in this one.


End file.
